So cruel, o laughing angel

To tempt us poor mortals

With a taste only of your glory…

Then desert us

Left alone and aching, for what we aren't quite sure

A gaping hole where poetry once wove gleaming webs

Filling us and patching souls with beauty

You flicker back into focus

And our hearts leap like Elisabeth's babe

For surely—but no

Dare we hope that you

Have come to grace us with your goodness yet again?

We dared to dream

But 'twas all in naught

For your halo now to our eyes adjusting

Revealed the smile on your face to be

Sad, and not rejoicing

And our spirits fall as stones knocked

By careless fingers to the bottom

Of a bottomless well

You turn, confidence wavering

And with each step down the alternate path

You drag our souls with you in the dirt, hitting rocks

Torn again to shreds against the false hopes we dared raise

Except now we have no shimmering strands of words

With which to heal

And so we bleed wistfully

Gaze yearning to the woods

Which fade as our memories

And your figure, out of focus

Color strained and only halfway rendered

Where the artist is lazy,

We see your skeleton

Clean white bones wrapped in smooth skin

Rippling hair caught on an artificial wind

A step further

And color dissipates

Your cheeks no longer rosy

A pale and grayscale version of

The princess we love

The breath of dawn carries your tentative laugh

And we ache

Ache for to hear it in person yet again

Ache for your face, voice

Long most of all for your words

Your worlds

For you…

Please come back.